The "A Real Pain In The Ass" Story

Partial view of the rear of my left leg

It was an ordinary day.  And, the blisters are starting to pop and the pain is setting in!  Looks really ugly.  I wrote a story a couple of days ago about getting the shingles virus.  No idea who I got it from or how I got it.  But, it got so bad that I visited a clinic in Sint Maarten to see if the doctor had any suggestions to help it go away.  Carol and I stopped in two different pharmacies in the Dutch capital of Philipsburg on the island of Sint Maarten.  Neither pharmacy would give me anything stronger that a pain medicine to take unless I had seen a doctor and had a prescription.  After stopping at the second pharmacy and asking for a lotion to use, the pharmacist looked at my left leg and said she could make an appointment for me if I wanted her to.  Asked her how soon the appointment would be and she said, "Right now.  Only four blocks away.  Clinic by the name of  Mercuur Medical Clinic."  I agreed and she called.  Told me to go over right now and give my name to the nurse on duty.  After a quick walk through the back alleys of the town, Carol and I found the clinic.  One other patient waiting in the lobby when I arrived.  About 30 minutes later a nurse took Carol and me to an examination room about the size of a closet.  Dr. Mercuur came right in and greeted us, sat down at the small desk, and checked the form I had filled out a half hour ago.  Asked what my problem was and I told him I think I have shingles.  "Let's have a look at them," he said.  I stood, unbuttoned my shorts and lowered them so he could see my left side.  "I'm sorry I don't have underwear on, but it hurts too much to have it against the rash," I told him.  "That's OK, I don't wear underwear either," was his reply.  I looked at Carol and she just rolled her eyes.  We saw no medical diplomas or any sign that Dr. Mercuur was indeed a physician, but he did have a stethoscope around his neck.  He looked at the rash that was now over my left butt cheek and the entire distance to my left ankle.  "Yep, that's what it looks like to me," he said.  At this time his cell phone rang and he signaled he was going to answer it.  Talked to someone about visiting the prison sometime in the afternoon, and after about five minutes, he closed his phone and got back to me.  Asked when I first noticed it and I told him about 5 days ago.   "Well, it is too late to give you the oral medicine that would have helped you.  "You need to start that within 48 hours of seeing the rash," he told me.   If only I had known, but why would I have know that anyway, since I never had shingles before and probably will never get them again. Riinnngggg, his cell phone goes again. Answers it and sounds like he is supposed to stop at the store on his way to the prison.  After another 5 minutes he hands up.  "How about some kind of cream that I can rub on the rash to help it heal faster?" I ask him.  He told me that the cream comes in very small tubes and with the amount of blisters I had it would take 3 or 4 tubes and they are $25 each, and I would have to use it 3 or 4 times a day for the duration of the rash.  "OK, what can I do?" I asked.  "Not much except take some pain pills," he responded.  "I am taking Tramadol periodically now for slight pain that I get from the back surgery that I had in September," I told him.  He told me, "That will work well for the pain you will have from this."  "And how long will this take to go away?" I asked.  "Probably a couple more weeks," was his answer.  So, I know that I really do have shingles and there is absolutely nothing I can do for them except take the pain medicine.  I know it will eventually go away and I vowed not to let it ruin the rest of my vacation.  But, since it is all over my left butt cheek and I need to sit when eating and I need to sit in a beach chair and  I need to ...............  And when I sit, my weight caused the blisters to pop and makes my pants look like I wet myself.  Really is a pain in the ass!!  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.